Meta-PhysicalFought writer's block.Meta-Physical in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Lost the plot.
Airhead (Oxymoron)Empty-headed.Airhead (Oxymoron) in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
But so full of himself.
Unreliable NarratorSherlock Holmes stories?Unreliable Narrator in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They were doctored.
Over Before You Know ItCaught stealing.Over Before You Know It in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
(Just a short sentence.)
Breaking EvenBroke her heart.Breaking Even in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Broke his nose.
1 Across (4 Letters)Adding tea to oil.1 Across (4 Letters) in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Youth and Age In theYouth and Age in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sense MemoryI developed taste.Sense Memory in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
We lost touch.
FluffThe Diary of His Supreme and Condescending Majesty, King Stalwart Prettipaws, the One and OnlyFluff in Short Stories More Like This
The housemaid has just given birth to a second child. It really is too much. So much noise. So much commotion. The footman appears to have forgotten I exist. I had to give the order twice this morning before I was fed.
However. I am the King - I must be gracious about the situation. They may be just servants but it is their home too. It would be cruel of me to expect them to leave at this stressful time. Perhaps I will go and stay in another palace for a while. My kingdom is certainly large enough for me to be able to find something to my liking.
Of course, there have been all those skirmishes with local pretenders to my throne recently. But I think the situation is now in paw. (No-one can yell and fluff themself up like I can.) It has undeniably been stressful though. And now with the staff reproducing… All in all it might be a good idea to get away for
:: Lonely Consequence ::Forgive and forget...:: Lonely Consequence :: in Free Verse More Like This
Regret. . .
:: More Than You'll Ever Know ::Does it make you proud:: More Than You'll Ever Know :: in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
When you're the cause of someone's tears?
Does it bring you joy
Every time you insult the innocent?
Do you know what you do
When you speak with your vicious tongue?
Do you realize what happens
Every time you laugh at another's sorrow?
You see a woman with male friends
And you accuse her of craving sexual attention.
You notice a boy wearing glasses
And you tease him with the name "four-eyes."
There's a group of peace lovers;
You proclaim they're annoying hipsters.
The teenage boys who love each other;
You tear them asunder by calling them abominations.
Do you find pleasure
In being the source of a poor soul's agony?
Do you even think
Of what the consequences could be?
Does it satisfy you
To make someone feel inferior to you?
Does it quench your thirst
Whenever you rule over the oppressed?
If a young man loves writing poetry,
Immediately you dismiss him as a lonely loser.
:: No More Pause Button ::I refuse to stop for anyone.:: No More Pause Button :: in Free Verse More Like This
:: The Certainty of Grudges ::Tell me.:: The Certainty of Grudges :: in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Why should anyone hold a grudge?
Is it worth the aggression?
Is it worth the pain?
Is it worth the spitefulness?
Is it worth the time?
What good does it do?
To always be angry?
To always bear hatred?
To always be upset?
To always bear ill will?
If a person holds a grudge?
Why can't they be honest?
Why can't they forgive?
Why can't they let go?
Why can't they move on?
If the other keeps going with their life?
Do they not deserve peace?
Do they not deserve serenity?
Do they not deserve tranquility?
Do they not deserve respect?
Because I am certain
That the only thing
Holding a grudge does...
...Is simply bring the bearer eternal sorrow.
:: Everything To Me ::To my darling...:: Everything To Me :: in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Do you remember our first discovery?
The first time we talked to each other?
We were shy; we were nervous.
Do you remember what brought us together?
What attracted you to me and me to you?
We were gamers-- PlayStation gamers.
Do you remember our first conversation?
Our first words for each other?
We were silly and oh-so cute.
Do you remember what life was like?
How lonely we were for so long?
We were envious and pessimistic.
Do you remember when we first met?
When distance was no longer a factor?
We were a little scared.
Do you remember our first date?
How lost we were in a superheroes' world?
We were holding hands and kissing.
Do you remember why we became one?
What bloomed the start of our relationship?
We were in love at first sight.
To my darling,
The love of my life,
Always remember every moment we share
Because you mean everything to me.
:: Teardrop Princess ::A princess wanders far away.:: Teardrop Princess :: in Free Verse More Like This
She loses her way, only to be
Embraced by nature's true beauty.
The dancing petals of flowers
And the fluttering wings of butterflies
Simply compliment her royal majesty.
Her speculating eyes gaze deeply,
Searching for real love she's never had.
But when she cannot find it,
The agony of her heart elevates.
What she does not realize,
However, is the darkness that tolls.
Closer and closer with dire cracks,
A creature from winter lurks
With a devious smile.
She bathes in the warmth of the sun,
Hoping to find that one true love.
Yet she does not realize that
Unnatural eyes are upon her.
Salty sweet droplets run down
Her flushed cheeks
And they bring forth spring.
Nature illuminates brightly;
The winter lurker fades.
A princess heals her aching heart.
The Craft of the CraftPoems are sculpted.The Craft of the Craft in Philosophical More Like This
Stories are woven.
Final FarewellSlowly slipping away, she whispers goodbye...Final Farewell in Free Verse More Like This
i don't believe in jesusno one celebrates losing virginity like they celebrate losing teeth.i don't believe in jesus in Free Verse More Like This
i don't get a dollar under my pillow for having sex with my boyfriend.
there are no doctors smiling at me when i tell them my cherry has been popped.
i am a whore for having premarital sex.
i am a tramp for loving someone enough to open my body to them.
no one celebrates losing virginity like they celebrate losing teeth -
but i slip mine under my pillow anyway, and in the morning when i wake,
there is a quarter and a tiny folded note:
"you are not a slut."
you may say i'm a dreamer, but i'm nota list of things i am not:you may say i'm a dreamer, but i'm not in Free Verse More Like This
no shitty ocean metaphors,
no poems about lovers and bones.
no girl with high school insecurities,
no misinterpreted radiohead lyrics
on the sidebar of a fifteen-year-old's blog.
a tea drinker, a book reader, a dreamer.
no dew drops of a saddened world
splashing on tin roofs or windowpanes.
no drawn out similes for depression or loss.
an ableist slur for the diagnosis of a mental illness,
starting with c and ending with y.
a lesbian. people are not their haircuts
or who they fall in love with.
no razored wrists and thighs.
no sick doggish romance.
no supermodel teen queen.
no irresistible object of sex and desire.
no poetess, no goddess,
but no less
than strengths and fallacies.
don't listen to mei would be a realdon't listen to me in Free Verse More Like This
poet if i wrote
about suicidal pain
and self harm
and in no productive
way other that to
repeat in trite
fashion what i had
been writing about
since the day i
discovered it caused
i would be a real
poet if i wrote
about the boy who
got away and how
he didn't love me back
because it's all
i knew how to write
but that's okay because
that's all people
want to read about.
here lie the hopes and dreams of an idiot like me"i've taken up smoking."here lie the hopes and dreams of an idiot like me in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
after all, i needed something to fulfill my oral fixation, just like you did, but i guess you found a man for that, didn't you?
no, i've never been one to like the taste of alcohol. i'm the fat girl chaser. and you'd be the one to tell me i can't do that now with my burnt out lungs. i just kneel and pray to the god who created condoms and cotton sheets, thankful that my other body parts work.
"that also happens to be the god that created lies, lung cancer, and monogamy," you would say. it's too hot for arguments like this. i light up another and you sneer. god, how i missed that.
you'd think we were an old married couple, but alas we were just a couple, and you were the married one. and i was the one who told you i didn't need you, which in retrospect is funny because i ended up not needing you and needing cigarettes. i had to add this to my list of things to pray for.
the one thing i never prayed for was the future, and this was because the truth belonged with
many's the long night he have robbed me of my restbefore you move on:many's the long night he have robbed me of my rest in Free Verse More Like This
i want to smoke pot with you.
no more of this high school teacher bullshit.
get high off life!
we can watch a few movies,
eat like kings, and pass out
in each other's arms
to lucid dreams.
(but nothing is ever that perfect,
before we spend years not talking:
i want to kiss you.
i've spent years dreaming about it.
i'm not the boy of your dreams,
i won't kiss your scars,
but i'll kiss your stretchmarks -
they're much more human
for they grow with you like i have
and i have a matching pair.
(but that just makes me an asshole,
before you forget about me:
i want to tell you how much i love you.
i think it goes without saying,
but i'll say it again,
just in case.
(but you've fallen for someone else,
before you get married:
i want to go on a road trip with you.
we can listen to your music this time
as long as we can roll the windows down
so i can catch the scent of your loveliness
without you knowing.
(but you'd still know that i l
unrequited shamethe skin that once coveredunrequited shame in Free Verse More Like This
my bones has now receded,
and my hips peer out like sea-shells
in the waning tide of my weight.
with each day, the rising heat
pulls the scars from my skin.
they shine white and boasting
with the puckered edges of your
name incised into my flesh,
right down to the bone.
though your signature is bound
to my body, i cannot believe
the intoxicating thought
that it was you who caused
me to destroy myself -
that would be like
blaming cancer on jesus.
yet ever insistent, the
lapping waters of the lake
murmur as my toes curl into
boiling sand - those waves
are more alluring than you
ever claimed i was.
i bow my head in sobriety
at the children wailing
as they break through the mulch
at the playground - for their
ages voice innocence,
but their surroundings do not.
though i vow to stop
seeing the shape of your
smile on the faces of others,
and i promise myself that
i will stop vomiting at the
mention of july -
i still miss you in the worst way -
without thinking of m
even a white middle class whore can be savedi wore a g-string to church today.even a white middle class whore can be saved in Free Verse More Like This
the pastor preached of suicide,
stories of loss pouring from parted lips,
the congregation wide eyed and fearful -
"what if that had been my child?"
i am just another statistic.
but there is nothing like a preacher's smile,
wide and beaming like a full, pregnant moon.
he knows nothing of what's under my dress -
the underwear, the cuts spelling out my abuser's name twice.
he smiles because i am not a statistic.
and as i stand among overfed jesus lovers
with fat fingers reaching for their god,
my lesions cry out to the masses,
whispering my abuser's name over and over.
i wore a g-string to church today,
not because i am unholy,
not because i don't believe,
but because i was out of clean underwear.
fireso long has it been since i thought aboutfire in Free Verse More Like This
something that once cancered
me with distress
and as pregnant with emotion as
the moon once was, i find myself losing
this fight, becoming who i once was
so many poems i had made love to
on the subject, so many justifications to
prove i was in the right
"provocative clothing does not a
rape subject make."
and while i'm escaping to the
best of my ability in the august
heat - my foot still gets caught in the
for i find it funny that one human
cannot love another human
for being human.
a conversationi welcome sleep as it is - a long lost friend returning home from battle, arms draped over my shoulders, weeping. i held it close and whispered - as if it were my only friend, being the prince of the sky, asking of why i cling to my possessions like a dog to its territory, why i harbor insane notions about silly things -a conversation in Free Verse More Like This
"we are all barren, stripping the land, looking for love in white-capped waves of our own destruction."
i asked why mother nature was pulling me by the roots of my hair, and being as i am, a girl who speaks vague classroom french and stands at the waterside passing small thoughts
like stones as the brine and tangling seaweed washes over my broad and open feet, i condescendingly believed he would give me straight answers-
"all languages we speak are diligent and binding, we bite our tongues against society, and she is just trying to say hello."
silence like a trainwreck passes on four feet and i wait, breathing, for the hour to come and announce itself to me in a rain-l
wmci spend hours in the ER signing my life away, signing away intangible money for a few pills and an empty promise that maybe, maybe my psych will call me back before the beast rattles the bars of its cage, running it's fingers down my spinal chord.wmc in Free Verse More Like This
they call it mania.
i call it hell.
i used to take pictures of my depression because one can make things like sadness seem pretty at any angle, add a touch of sepia or black and white, or cross process. but images of mania are blurred, out of focus - nearly un-editable.
i speak the language of pharmacists. fifteen times this night (oh, i've counted) they've asked me
what are you on?
what they do not explain is how medication works for six months, then leaves me despaired, heart tangled in a hopeless rhythm, crying without reason and desperate to spend every penny i have.
i return late, skip two classes in the morning and the classes i do attend i sleep through with eyes wide, awake, for i am in a drug induced stupor. i laugh at
Innocence (73)Tired of mumbling when they mention your name-Innocence (73) in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Desperate, longing, to simply be sane.
Want to be free, to dance with the wind
No longer thinking what we had was sin.
Used to be open, carefree and young
Long before we knew how love truly stung.
Now so broken with patches and scars,
Thinking this plan has never been ours.
Sure there's a reason for every small tear,
But gratitude is something you will not find here.
Give it some time, let memories build up
Don't think about all the days now corrupt.
Oh to be innocent like I once was,
To answer my questions with words like "Because"
Without having to worry about things in the past...
Not really wondering how long we would last.
Of Two Different WorldsA world that is black and a world that is white,Of Two Different Worlds in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
One that is daring and willing to fight.
Another that's humble and quiet and true-
One that is me, and one that is you.
You, who were raised to be silent and calm
Crush all your hopes in the fist of your palm.
Never quite letting your heart to be free,
Wearing the glasses that make you not see.
I was the one who was timid and shy,
Raised to be gentle, taught to be kind.
Learning each day how to be who I am
I lock my feelings in tight as a clam.
But you have become someone scared as a deer
Instead of the world, you can only see fear.
Anger is something that you took in stride-
Something that you've simply learned how to hide.
They say I'm wild and a bit off my head,
Because I'm the kind that will not be led.
I make my own path, trying to fly
Letting them see that I can still cry.
These two worlds, so different, have come to a clash
And we've made a decision that seems quite rash.
But what has happened is, and what will be is done-
Mimicrymildewed [ghosts]Mimicry in Concrete Poetry More Like This
haunt the c.r.a.c.k.s in the w do not
l their voices
Safeshe tells me that they stole her wordsSafe in Free Verse More Like This
marked them in red and wrung them out dry
leaving her shockingly [bare]
so she took up her -sharpest- pen
and she c a r v e d out her words
[close to her heart they'll be safe]
Wake-up callwhen you're drowning in an ocean of sad thoughts,Wake-up call in Free Verse More Like This
you don't trip out onto the beach:
sooner or later, the waves will sweep you off your feet
and you will be unprepared
when the waters close over your head.
instead, you take a deep breath
and say your prayers
and you dive in.
the quickest way to learn to swim
is to have no other choice.
ControlControl is everything. Self-control, that is. Control how you act, what you say, what goes into your body, and maybe — just maybe — you'll be able to control you are. Power is addictive; my drug of choice, but it comes at a cost. You see, what you don't learn until it's too late? Sooner or later, the need for control — controls you.Control in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Generally, I’m a good kid. I pay attention in school, earning the high grades that decorate my report cards. I may not be especially popular, but I certainly have friends. I usually do as I’m told, don’t flagrantly disobey rules, and I try hard to please people. I retrace my steps in my mind, searching for the slip — the fall — that landed me here, on this cool, clammy table, wearing not much more than a requisite thin gown.
A crisp knock on the heavy wooden door to the exam room startles me, bringing my attention back to my predicament at hand. After
Catch me if you canI’m the anorexic at the local gym whom everybody watches but nobody looks at.Catch me if you can in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I’m the bulimic at school whom everybody pretends not to know about.
I’m the girl in your gym class with too many scars to be telling the truth.
I’m the kid with her head down in the library who is always “fine.”
I’m the boy who 'fell down the stairs'...again.
I’m the child who doesn't show up for school lunch because it's too expensive.
I’m the teenager living a double life in front of your very eyes.
Catch me if you can.
better on your floor than ever in my bedi have not slept well without the aid of sedatives since you left.better on your floor than ever in my bed in Emotional More Like This
the dreams are screamers that set my lungs on fire and burn my body to bones and when i wake up, it is in a bed of ashes and i am alone to rebuild.
i am not a phoenix
and i cannot live on smoke.
the drugs, they dampen the ground beneath my feet, the air is thick with the tension before a storm that never comes, and i choke on every breath and wake from drowning without remembering the struggle. the memories elude me. the forgetting is, in a way, worse.
you used to be able to beat down the blaze, to pull me from the fire-pit before i settled in for the night. you used to make me feel safe.
in your bed, with you close, the dreams still came. they didn’t fear you the way they should have. but you displaced them, stood up to them and chased away the dark, and with you next to me, i slept better than i had in a year. because when i woke in the dead of night, when i cried and no one h
In the interest of full disclosurei am not the person you thinkIn the interest of full disclosure in Letters More Like This
and you will realize that all too soon.
i am not what people have built me up to be
and i am destroying myself in trying to measure up.
i am not interesting.
if i were a puzzle, all of my pieces
would be careworn with age and wear
colors dull and muted--
a picture prosaically familiar;
there is nothing pretty to look at here.
i am not beautiful. i am not the kind of person
that they write about,
stories and poems that make you cry.
i am not strange enough to be special,
but i am not normal enough to fit in.
i am not fragile enough to engender support,
but i am not strong enough to help myself
let alone those who are foolish enough to rely on me.
i am not a delicate collectible
that people wish to adopt
and call my problems their own.
i am a dusty cliché
that has seen better days.
let me be clear:
i am none of these things.
i am not.
Confessioni crave your touch.Confession in Free Verse More Like This
[i still do, after all this time.]
i crave your fingers on my mouth,
your mouth whispering in my ear,
your ear pressed to my heart.
i crave the weight of you, reassuringly corporeal.
i drift away without you anchoring me.
you take my heart, when you leave,
and leave in its place an
Lucidall this time she's seemed so nearLucid in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
her angel face you hold so dear
she'll find you in that darkest time
her eyes will speak sans reason, rhyme
in time you will remember things
of birds and bones and broken wings
of deadly secrets, shattered dreams
things left unsaid and silent screams
with open heart and open mind
stand in the rain and you will find
that healing lies in these things true
and to remember changes you
Who needs a map?We lost our way; made another.Who needs a map? in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
DevastationDear Writer,Devastation in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Thanks, but no thanks.
Should I have?Untraveled road became a lifelong regret.Should I have? in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Gone too soonPrecious bundle of joy; college bound.Gone too soon in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
That Golden Moment Before...Peace and quiet.That Golden Moment Before... in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Mom, Jimmy's bleeding!"
DeforestationWooded paradise fell before smoking dragons.Deforestation in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This